


Turning Hope

by DirtyBrian



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 02:46:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7959295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyBrian/pseuds/DirtyBrian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec and Ellie finally cross that line they’ve been dancing for a while now. There are things holding them back, though, and they need to work through them before they can fully enjoy one another. Set sometime after the conclusion of the trial in S2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turning Hope

Looking back, neither one of them could pinpoint where or when their relationship changed. She never stopped calling him a wanker, and he never stopped earning the nickname. They kept griping at one another, kept their distance emotionally (except for those rare, raw moments that they both secretly reveled in). She pretended to not notice the longing looks he directed her way, and he pretended to not notice the fact that he spent nearly all of his time with her- the rare day he didn’t see her, he was grumpier than usual and texted her at least once. Just to make sure she was all right. Even if they were willing to risk the status quo, they were both convinced they were too damaged in their own ways to be worth the chance.

So when they found themselves sprawled on the couch one Thursday evening, kissing frantically after a bottle (or two) of wine, to say they were surprised would be an understatement. Even more unexpected was the fact that they were both enjoying themselves so much- Hardy actually laughed when Ellie tried to wrest his tie off his neck impatiently, nearly throttling him in the process. He stilled her with one hand and used the other to untie the tie himself, threading the silk through his fingers in a way that sent a shiver up Ellie’s spine. He noticed her eyes following the fabric and he grinned, eyes dark, and pulled her in for another hard kiss.

“Bedroom?” she murmured against his lips when they broke for air, surprised that the words actually left her mouth. His eyes snapped wide open at her words, and Ellie immediately backed off. “You don’t want to?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her tone. Certain…evidence would have led her to believe that he was as game as she was. If she was honest with herself, the tiniest part of her was relieved- not because she didn’t want to, but because of the guilt and the uncertainty warring in her head as he kissed her.

“No, I do.” He looked down, and Ellie could have sworn she could have seen him blush. “It’s just…been a while, and I don’t-I don’t want to mess this up.” He punctuated the statement with a wave of his hands between them, and she couldn’t stop the fond smile that grew on her face. The fact that he was nervous made her feel better about what they’d been about to do, and he was more than a little adorable that he was flustered.

“Little late, isn’t it?” She winked at him and stood, extending her hand toward him, feeling far more brave than she normally did. “Should’ve quit before you showed me what a bloody great kisser you are.” It was true. He may be a wanker, but good gracious, he could kiss. His eyebrows shot up and his flush deepened, and she had to fight from bursting out laughing. “S’true. Besides, our relationship is already pretty improbable, don’t you think?”

He cocked his head and chuckled, his eyes meeting hers. He laced his fingers with hers and stood, pulling her flush against his lithe form. “You’re right, of course. Cherish the moment, Miller. I may never admit it again.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers, surprising her with his gentleness, and repeated her earlier question: “Bedroom?”

Any nervousness or guilt that she might have felt evaporated when she looked up into his eyes. She’d never seen them sparkle quite like that, and to know that she was doing it to him was intoxicating. She pulled him hurriedly around the corner and they fell on the covers in a tangle of limbs, both unwilling to part their lips in order to remove clothes. It was a good thing, she mused, that they both favored button-ups most of the time.

They didn’t speak again until Ellie was clad in only her bra and knickers (when had that happened? The man had quick hands.) and he was divested of his shirt. She’d just slid her hands under his vest top to trace the soft skin of his chest when he pulled back. “Stop, don’t.”

He looked so spooked that Ellie withdrew completely, pulling back onto the bed and curling up into herself. “I’m sorry, I-“

“No it’s not your fault, Mill—Ellie.” He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, looking at the floor, out the window, anywhere but into her eyes. “S’nothing you did. You’re perfect.” He said the words almost bitterly, and she couldn’t stop the confusion that flitted over her features. “I mean it. You’re beautiful.” Normally she would have rolled her eyes at his clumsily-delivered compliment, but the intense look in his eyes and the fact that she was half-naked, in one corner of his bed stilled her.

“Well, you’re not so bad-looking yourself, eh?” She immediately cursed her instinct to lighten the mood with humor. It rarely, if ever, worked. He scowled and dropped his gaze to the floor, his fingers laced together tightly. Taking a chance, she crawled forward and placed her hand on his tense forearm. “Talk to me, Alec.”

She didn’t know if it was her use of his first name, or the touch, but he looked up at her, embarrassment and anger and something she couldn’t define in his eyes. “I don’t even know how to describe it. I feel better than I have in…years, really. Since before Sandbrook. Things have finally settled down here, and there’s you, and you’re my best friend, for some reason.” She smirked and squeezed his arm, silently urging him to continue. “But then you were kissing me, which really is fantastic, by the way, and taking off my shirt and all I could think about was this bloody great scar on my chest and how you’ll think it’s awful and why it’s there and how many times I’ve done you wrong, and…I don’t want to hurt you too, like…” he broke off, looking lost, and her heart clenched in concern. He didn’t’ have to finish the sentence; she knew he was thinking of his family and his ruined marriage.

Before she answered, Ellie took a moment to consider his words. They were surprisingly easy to empathize with. The guilt she’d been carrying about Danny’s death still weighed heavily on her shoulders- guilt for Beth and Mark and Chloe, guilt for how she’d let Tom pull away, guilt for letting everyone in Broadchurch down by not seeing Joe for what he was. Even now, the guilt for even considering Hardy as anything other than a friend.

“You’re not broken, yeah?  _ We’re  _ not broken.” She slid to the floor and crouched in front of him, one hand moving to cup his cheek. “You’re not perfect and neither am I, and we’re probably gonna hurt one another if we keep this going forward. We’re gonna do each other wrong. We’ve both got some bloody great demons to wrestle. But does that mean we shouldn’t? Or that it won’t be worth it?” He shook his head minutely, and she smiled, stretching up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“And as for this ‘bloody great scar’ as you put it,” she murmured, moving her fingers to where she could feel the pacemaker under his skin. “I love it.”

“What?” He looked at her sharply, but she kept her gaze steady.

“I love it.” She traced the lines of the scar gingerly. “I love that it gave you a second chance at finding peace, at solving Sandbrook. I love it because it shows that you’re a fighter, that you’re too damned stubborn to let life beat you. I love it because it means that you’re here with me right now.” As she said these last words, she slowly pressed forward, until her lips were hovering just next to his. He fell sideways on the bed, pulling her down with him so that they were stretched out face-to face. His hand came to rest on her waist, his thumb moving up and down on her bare skin. “And I love it because it made me finally realize that I don’t see you as my boss or my colleague anymore,” she whispered, pressing closer so that she was flush with him, feeling pleased with herself when he shivered lightly.

“How-how do you feel now?” he whispered roughly, unable to stop his gaze from drifting downwards to where she was pressed up against him.

“Well, you’re still a wanker,” she chuckled, and he wrinkled his nose at her. “A lovely wanker who I’d very much like to be closer to right now. Even if he doesn’t want to take off his shirt.” She bumped her nose against his, eyes warm, and he let himself smile fully at her. His eyes were brighter than she’d ever seen them, and she couldn’t help but reflect the smile back at him.

“Wouldn’t be much fun, would it?” Haltingly, he took her hand and set it where it had been a few minutes ago, under the fabric of his shirt and tracing up the taut lines of his side. “Just…slow, yeah?”

“Slow,” she agreed, giving his side a light tickle.

Neither one of them had ever enjoyed ‘slow’ quite so much.


End file.
